28. Marcus

The next envelope had us moving through several more turns, looking "to the sky for a guide." Not that any of us had a clue what that meant, but we continued on the path, making the turns as we needed, until the sun was fully set and we had to pull our flashlights to move.

I knew we would need to stop soon to conserve their battery life, but none of us wanted to give in too early.

When we got to the final turn in the directions given to us, we made the collective decision to make camp until morning, when sunlight would help us try to find our next clue. Because the weather was cooperating and the wind wasn't blowing the chill around, we opted for a large fire and our bedrolls rather than constructing the full tent.

Deacon set to work gathering firewood while Finn and I set the camp and worked out a watch schedule. If any of the other groups were out looking for us, the fire would give away our location, so we had to hope most of them were as tired as we were after that first trial, and they, too, would be sleeping.

We worked out four-hour shifts. I would take the first one, waking Deacon to take the next, and Finn would complete the final four. Once we all ate our portions for the night, Finn went to bed, and Deacon sat up with me for a bit before he, too, laid down.

My faith in Marlo is unquestioned. I know he's on my side and has been since our partnership began in the first trial, but I didn't know where Finn stood. While he helped with Deacon's leg at the maze, he was also the first to jump ship in the river challenge.

Was he with us?

I glance at Deacon and can see the wheels turning in his head. He catches me looking, and I nod to Finn, silently asking the question, ‘Do we trust him?'

Deacon throws his eyes to Finn"s bedroll and sits thinking for a while before responding, his head shaking slowly.

No.

Sighing, I ponder our next move. Should I have Deacon wake me instead? Do we trust that he will keep our team safe?

My hope is yes, but neither of us knows.

He must want to win this. He has competed at the highest level at every stage of this retreat competition. He wouldn't do that just to throw it away and sabotage us in the end.

Especially after helping Deacon at the start of the trial.

He may not be with us, but he isn't against us either. At least not now.

Sending Deacon off to sleep, I spend my shift thinking about what our item could be. How will it need to be transported? If we will agree on its transport, and if we will even have a chance to make that choice if someone gets there before we do.

My shift ends with no incidents, and I wake Deacon to begin his. Finn remains fast asleep as I slide into my bedroll, holding onto hope that The Fates are watching over us tonight.

Hours later, someone is shaking me, and it takes a moment for me to remember where I am. My body is stiff from the barely padded bed I slept on.

"Someone's coming. We need to move," The voice is low, but I recognize Finn"s accent and instantly am pulled back into the present of where I am. Final trial. Day two. My eyes open to the graying sky as the sun begins peaking over the horizon, not quite clear of the mountains.

The fire we had going has been doused, and Deacon and I both jump to roll up our bedding to get it packed.

It's then I hear what Finn is talking about. Loud stomping through the underbrush. Not close, but close enough.

"They've got to be this way. They would have started them in the west, just like they started us in the east," a whiny female voice exclaims.

"Will you shut up! It'd be a miracle if they didn"t hear you ten minutes ago. If we don't find them soon, we can head back for the next clue. Now get a move on," Saint's voice comes out harsh and irritated.

They can't be more than a football field away.

We throw on our packs, clearing anything we might need, and move as silently as we can out in the direction of our final clue from the last marker. We make sure to move a little off the trail to keep from being spotted but without losing our place in the maze.

We've been moving for about ten minutes when I hear Saint's frustrated yell. He must've found our camp.

Our empty camp.

He will now have to decide to try and track us, falling farther behind on his mission, or go back to his next clue.

Decisions decisions.

I turn, glancing to see Finn and Deacon's reactions, and see smiles from both of them.

"I love ruining that asshole's day," Finn whispers triumphantly, and for the first time, he shows a bit of his cards.

Not a fan of Saint. Check.

We take a second to bask in the moment before continuing on our way, keeping our eyes on the skyline and treetops, looking for our next clue.

Twenty minutes later, we see it.

At the top of a hundred-foot tree is a bright red envelope. At first glance, I assume climbing the tree should be no problem, but upon closer inspection, it appears that many of the limbs have been hacked off or sliced through, ready to break with the slightest pressure.

"I can climb," Finn states, moving to before Deacon stops him.

"We only get one shot up and one down. We need to look at your path. Every branch will break once it has been used, so you won"t be able to go up and down the same way. We can't all go, but I think if we do this right, two of us can climb while one navigates from the bottom." he says, already trying to put together a path that will work.

Finn turns to me before asking, "You have any problems with heights, or is it just the swimming?" There is a teasing humor in his tone, and it makes me smile.

"No issues with heights. I'm rather good at climbing," I respond, understanding that he and I have volunteered for this one while Deacon strategizes.

"We should use the rope we have left. If we get through this, it will still be usable later, but if one of us falls, we may not be able to finish," he says, his voice giving away the gravity of a hundred-foot fall.

"Alrighty then. Let's do this," I say as Deacon points out our path.